


splash of fire

by PeachyKeen_WithCream



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Counter Sex, Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Foot Fetish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 15:33:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8672797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeachyKeen_WithCream/pseuds/PeachyKeen_WithCream
Summary: Charles knows all of her freckles and shades of red.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own 'X-Men' nor am I profiting off this.

Jean traces a pattern into the chilly marble counter top, and listens to the silky soft sliding of her hair as she turns her head. The sink gurgles as water continues its reluctant slide down the drain, chasing pieces of food and bubbles.

Gone is the sweaty braid from the early training session in the danger room. Now it favors spilling across the counter top in a splash of red. The rubber band rolls between her fingers, still strong enough for a loose braid, but not enough for intricate twists. Bruises and scrapes decorate her skin like armor in shades of green, purple and yellow. Charles thumb slides easily over violet, lips curving into a smile. 

“Beautiful.” Charles grips her ankle firmly enough to keep her from pulling away. “Do you have any idea how incredible your legs are?” 

The rubber band stretches thinly as he strokes the jut of her ankle bone. He leans forward and kisses the instep of her foot as the press of his mind pushes against hers. 

“I mean it,” he murmurs, rubbing his nose back and forth against the sensitive skin, “You are such an elegant fighter, and the freckles." 

Dots of cinnamon; spattering of stars; angel kisses; he knows the natural freckles, the sunburn ones, and the ones which disappear underneath her clothes. 

"I do, my darling, he chuckles, squeezing her ankle. “Do you know all the shades of red you carry?” 

Fire at her temple. Copper bleeding into the tips. Wine spilling down her back. The thatch of hair between her legs is copper, but mats darker with arousal. 

"I could compare the flavor to a fine wine, he hums, though the heat is far too much." 

Jean cranes her neck to face him, flexing her toes which give a reluctant cramp at the stretching. 

The whisper of beautiful is lost in a piece of fire.

**Author's Note:**

> If you have not already, go read annejumps, electrique, and still_lycoris' stories. 
> 
> Each writes gorgeous stories.


End file.
